The Trolliest Fandom
by esmeralda312
Summary: Originally this was just one drabble that I'd written in response to Bamon hate in the tumblr tag, but since 5x22 there's been such an influx of insecure non-Bamon shippers flooding the Bamon tag that I have a feeling I'll be writing a lot more of these. So here's a collection of drabbles and one-shots written for tumblr in response to tagged Bamon hate.
1. 01 Game On

booklovertotheendoftime:  
**Hey BAMON shippers you really think DAMON of ALL PEOPLE would change his heart that quickly after that HEARFELT OF A SPEECH?! AND THAT BONNIE BENNETT WOULD FALL FOR HIM?! NO WAY IN A MILLION YEARS! SHE WOULD PUT ELENA FIRST, LIKE ALWAYS! SO NEVER EVER EVER! DELENA IS ENDGAME!**

* * *

In the darkness, he stared at the old "Welcome to Mystic Falls" sign. The paint was peeling, and the letters were chipped.

Damon had a decision to make.

The board was set, each piece perfectly placed and each player awaiting the roll of the dice. The plans were all made.

Usually when Damon made decisions, the plans were not yet made. Usually things were falling apart, and his life was threatening to split at its seams. But this time, all that had already happened. His brother was dead. The travelers were threatening to end witch magic and hence his own existence. The Other Side was crumbling. Bonnie Bennett was crumbling along with it.

With all that had happened, that last realization had been the final one to hit him. But there in her dorm room as they argued with a mutual sense of desperation, he understood. She had taken the time to pack up her belongings, file away every bit of the ghost of a human life she had returned to… and she had no expectation of ever being able to open up those boxes again.

Like him, Bonnie was the sort who made decisions and plans. And the plan that she had formulated now was not going to save her. So Damon decided to make a few little adjustments of his own.

There were very few people in the world that Damon truly cared about. A short list, you could say. He still couldn't quite articulate why or when or how, but the witch was on that list. When he had learned of her death, it took Damon all of ten minutes to realize that mourning her was not an option. He was single-minded in his determination to bring her back to life where everyone else had failed to even try.

And even before, when she was lost on that island, the urgency of his impulse to find her surprised him. The relief of having her wrapped in his arms was lucid in his mind even now. From his vantage point on the hood of his car, he was crystal clear on what he had to do.

"I will make it back to you," Damon had lied. "I promise."

Tears and worry marred Elena's face, and Damon brushed her cheek for what he knew was the last time. Winning Elena's love was the greatest achievement of his years on Earth. Selfishly, he wanted to keep that.

But he knew with a level of clarity that he had never felt before that this was not a time for selfishness. As his brother had sacrificed his own love of Elena on that night ages ago, to fulfill the bargain with Klaus and save Damon's life, Damon now made his decision. If it were any other day, such a consciously selfless act would have worn him ragged with the insidious brand of cognitive dissonance that punctuated every choice he'd ever made in his life. But today, all he felt was calm. Calm, and ready.

His brother would be alive. Elena would be safe. Bonnie wouldn't die alone.

He rolled the dice. The game began.

BDBDBDBDBDBDBDBDBDBD

"Well, would you look at that," did seem a bit of an understatement, Bonnie thought. It was weird, but she almost felt like _she_ was more upset that he hadn't been able to pass back through her than he was.

Still, she had experienced an overwhelming relief when she saw him finally appear amidst the brush and trees, in the cool and unforgiving landscape of the Other Side. Despite their failure, the sensation continued to surge through her, and she was guilty and glad to not be facing the end by herself.

She didn't know what to make of Grams' cryptic assurances, but she decided that they were why she felt safe in that surreal moment. Not because of the vampire standing beside her, nor his fingers interlocked with her own.

She inhaled and squinted into the light around them as it grew in intensity. "Do you think it will hurt?"

His fingers squeezed hers, and all she could see was white.

"I don't kn-"


	2. 02 Heaven

victoriajoaquin:  
i don't really care what you ship or not but  
i hope you understand  
it doesn't exists in the show :'(  
the books? is other story, of course they do, i hear a lot of stuff (wich i don't like it, but i really don't mind 'cause in my opinion i don't like the books either)  
I love the TV show and i'm JUST TALKING ABOUT IT  
**NOT THE BOOKS  
**but c'mon, is a _SHOOOOW  
_i kind scared when i see people talking about **IAN SOMERHALDER AND KAT  
**like… omg…  
that's creepy you guys, 'cause they're real persons, not damon and bonnie for real,  
with ian somerhald and nina is totally diferent 'cause they actually dated in real life, so please stop it  
write fanfics, and make videos, and gifs, and be happy blabla  
but stop saying who is "better ship"  
i'm not blashing anyone, i'm just wanna explain (if isn't clear) that this ship doesn't exist, and hope you guys understand (sorry if i ofend u)  
love u all

* * *

"Do you think it will hurt?" "I don't kn-"

Two seconds of afterlife. One blinding flash of light. Half of an uttered sentence from his lips.

That's all it took for him to lose her.

He was gripping her hand, squeezing it so tightly that he knew he must be hurting her. But the alternative was to allow her to slip through his fingers, and that just wasn't something that Damon could allow.

His mind couldn't accept the possibility of Bonnie Bennett disappearing into the aether of the dissipating Other Side. He couldn't leave her to fend off the vast unknown alone.

So he made a plan. He pretended he would survive. He said his goodbyes. And then he sacrificed himself, leaving behind two of the people most important to him. But he knew that Stefan and Elena would be safe, knew that they would take care of each other in the end.

He did all of that to protect this witch, no, not even a witch anymore. Just a ghost of a girl, pantomiming the everyday banalities of the life she'd already forfeited, only to be forced to forfeit it all over again.

And despite everything, he had lost her. As the blazing white light enveloped them, those warm fingers twined with his own simply vanished, leaving him nothing to grip but air.

When he found himself again, blinking and dazed, he was sitting by the edge of Wickery River, before the bridge was built. The rushing water seemed hushed, after the roar of the collapsing Other Side had nearly consumed him.

A whooping yell alerted him to an eight-year-old Stefan, leaping over the edge of the falls and tumbling into the water. Damon's breath caught in his throat as fear clenched his chest tight.

And then he remembered.

He had lived this before. Back when he was human, this was the day that he and Stefan had escaped their stodgy old tutor and spent an idyllic afternoon undiscovered at the falls.

Stefan surfaced, laughing. The innocent mirth made his eyes seem so bright, and Damon felt a different emotion clenching in his chest then.

He took a step toward the water and realized that he was still wearing his boots and leather jacket. He remembered the blinding light that assaulted his eyes, he remembered the unwavering words that left her lips just before he lost her.

"Do you think it will hurt?"

The ground beneath him gave way. He was falling, falling, until he wasn't.

And then he stood in another place entirely.

It was Sheila Bennett's house, and it stood the way Damon remembered it years ago, when he had stopped by on one of his sporadic Bennett bloodline guardian check-ins.

The last time he had been here, a young girl had been playing on the driveway. One little foot looped into a bizarre contraption of a toy, she jumped and swung the neon plastic, hopping her second foot over it in time.

"That's a Skip-It, right?" he approached her smoothly, his voice reaching for a softness that he hardly recognized itself.

Still, the girl startled. "GRAMS!" Shocking green eyes stared at him for half a moment before she had stumbled into the house, the discarded toy lying haphazard on the concrete behind her.

And there he found it now, the girl nowhere to be found. He stooped to pick it up, the bright plastic smooth against his fingertips.

He walked towards the door. "Bonnie?" he called out. No answer.

The front door swung open when he knocked, and he wondered if vampires needed invitations wherever he was now. He took a step in.

And found himself falling again. Falling, falling, into another warm memory.

He traveled through the disorienting new world in that way, soon losing count of how many places he'd been, how many moments of his life he had replayed. And still, he couldn't find her.

Until finally, he found himself on that island.

"BONNIE!" he shouted into the empty woods. This is where he found her once, this is where he would find her again. A surge of hope rushed through him. "Bonnie, where are you?" he yelled.

He stumbled over brush and swatted away tree limbs. "Bonnie!" He fought his way back to that glen where he had found her before.

And then he heard it. The faintest rustle, just a small patch of pine needles colliding together, and it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

There she was, tumbling out into the glen. Her eyes found his and she gasped, "Damon?"

He didn't pause, didn't say a word, didn't even breathe. Not a moment had passed before she was crushed against him, his arms tight around her. She wrapped her arms around him in return, her fingers pressing into his back. She sank into his embrace with a sigh, her eyes closing, safe in the knowledge that they were together now.

And they would always be together now.


	3. 03 Finding Peace

isolarity:  
do bamon fans actually exist  
#tvd#bamon#idk#no offense#vampire diaries#vamps#damon and bonnie#OMFG#i dont see why not#dont see the point#delena#de#damon and elena#love#delena fan#guilty

* * *

Hollow rattling and the jingle of loose coins echoed through the foyer as Bonnie rummaged through her purse.

"Babe, I'm home!" she shouted, dumping the bag onto a tall table in the hallway. She slipped her keys onto a filigreed hook mounted on the wall, and she reached down to nudge the sleek black heels from her feet.

Despite years of success at the firm, she was certain her body would never grow accustomed to the dress code. She was next in line to be partner when Sulez retired, but the shoes were still a pain in her ass.

She leaned back against the wall, fingertips pressing into the cool plaster as she gave her feet a languid stretch, arching and extending each in turn.

She pushed away from the wall and inhaled. "Mmm, something smells good in there," she murmured.

A shock of jet black hair popped out from the doorframe a few feet away from her. "Oh good, you're here," Damon said. "Why don't you change into something nice? I'm almost done in here. I have a... well, it's a surprise."

Bonnie felt warmth surge through her at the sight of him. She knew quite well by now that usually Damon was a creature of routine, every detail of his home and person accounted for. He was downright domestic.

Today though... today something had him out of sorts, and she couldn't help but smile. His hair was a mess, the dark strands unruly and wild. Something bright red was splattered across his shirt, and what appeared to be flour fingerprints marred his dark jeans.

She glanced down at her own clothing. It wasn't haute couture or anything, but her pleated russet blouse and black pencil skirt didn't seem too shabby to her. She looked back up at him, mouth opened to say as much when she realized that he'd already turned back to the kitchen.

She trailed in behind him and noticed he was making his way to a large stockpot placed on the stove. He dipped a wooden spoon in and gave it a stir, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Hmm, change into something nice... How nice are we talking here?" She leaned across the counter towards him with a smirk.

"Oh no," he replied, not turning away from his task. "You're not tricking the secret out of me this time, you sorceress."

She grinned.

"Go on, shoo," he said. Damon didn't have to look at her to know she was rolling her eyes, smiling and turning towards the stairs, in that order. He brought the spoon to his lips and gave the tomato sauce a taste.

An hour later, Bonnie's hair was coiffed neatly to one side and she was wearing her favorite cocktail dress, enjoying the way the slinky champagne beads brushed her knees as she made her way down the stairs. She walked into the dining room to find candles, seemingly hundreds of candles, filling every available surface. The flames flickered, drawing long dancing shadows across the warm burgundy wallpaper.

Her eyes grew wide.

The table was set for two. Two wine-colored damask placemats on the crisp linen tablecloth, two sets of the fine china plates that Damon's mother had given him, two neatly folded napkins cinched by filigreed gold rings, and a full host of paired silverware.

"Happy anniversary, Mrs. Salvatore." His voice was quiet.

She turned to find him standing in the doorway. All of the disarray of earlier that evening had vanished. He wore a luxe black suit, his hair was tamed, and he had one elegant fluted glass filled with bubbling liquid in each hand.

He grinned with a pride that was so childlike it almost seemed innocent. Almost. This was still Damon, after all.

He held one of the glasses out to her. The glint of cufflinks inset with champagne onyx caught her eye as he moved, and she wondered how he knew which dress she'd choose.

"Happy anniversary, Damon." She smiled.

She took a step towards him and everything changed.

The ground beneath them shook violently. Candles toppled to the floor. The once gentle flames soon raged tall and angry, devouring the carpet and threatening to consume them both.

"What the hell is going on?" Bonnie shouted, realizing the air in the room was rushing around them, feeding the fire and surrounding them with a roar.

"I don't know!" he shouted back.

Her eyes met his, which blinked away his hair as the wind whipped it back into wildness. They were separated by a line of flame.

She reached out to him, and his gaze darted to the blistering fire between them.

Before she could even breathe, he had leapt. He landed right in front of her, his body pressing against hers. He leaned down to brush at his singed shoes.

"Look, it's going to be okay," he shouted against the roar of the wind, which picked up with an even greater violence now.

"How do you know?" Her voice felt hoarse, and she could feel the heat of flames at her back, at her sides, all around them. The light of the fire became brighter, each moment more and more a searing, blinding white.

There was pressure against her fingertips, and he lifted her hand up to show her where they were intertwined. Palm to palm, their fingers were desperately tangled together.

"I don't kn-"

She blinked.

They were surrounded. They were in some dank room in a basement that she would have assumed abandoned if not for the small crowd of people assembled who stared at them in wonder, expectantly.

A blonde spoke up first. "We did it. We really did it." Bonnie noticed the sheen of tears in the girl's blue eyes.

A man, who appeared to be in his thirties, with floppy brown hair rushed towards them. His hand gripped Bonnie's shoulder. "Oh my God, Bonnie... is it really you?"

Bonnie stood with her mouth agape.

Damon stared at the hand on his wife's shoulder.

A girl with long brunette hair stood across the room stared at Bonnie and Damon's entwined hands, her mouth setting in a tense line.

A boy stood beside her and stepped forward, peering at Damon with suspicion. "It's been 15 years, but we never stopped trying to get you back. Never."

Damon ignored the boy. He pulled Bonnie towards him and out of the grasp of the man standing beside her.

The boy who had been speaking frowned, a heavy furrow creasing his brow. "Well, say something."

Bonnie glanced around in confusion for another moment before finally finding her voice.

"Who the hell are you people?"


End file.
